The Power of Failing
by Star Slight
Summary: After the war, Squall is forced to consider his relationship with Rinoa and his future at Garden. When Rinoa's brother is transferred to Balamb Garden, Quistis is given the opportunity to succeed where she believes she had failed with Squall and Seifer.
1. Stepping Down, Stepping In

Chapter 1: Stepping Down, Stepping In

For Squall Leonhart, the battlefield was home. In combat, his enemies would move in slow motion, providing him with ample time to attack and to defend. The years of mental and physical preparation, the classroom studies and training exercises, were all cast aside in the heat of battle. He kept in mind only his enemies, allies, and objectives, his movements guided by instinct alone as he fought. On the battlefield, Squall Leonhart's instincts could be trusted.

With the sorceress war behind him, however, he would find that battlefields were much harder to come by. Without a battlefield, without killing, there is life. For Squall Leonhart, life was the hard part.

* * *

"Good morning, headmaster," Squall said.

"Have a seat, commander. What can I do for you?"

Squall took a deep breath as the old man peered at him from across his desk. Don't back down, he reminded himself. Don't let him talk you out of it.

"Sir, I'm stepping down as commander of Balamb Garden."

Cid leaned back in his chair and sighed. He expected a reaction of some kind from Squall after he had briefed him on the duties of Garden's commander in times of peace. Cid hadn't ruled this particular reaction out, and wasn't surprised by it, but he was disappointed.

"May I ask why?"

"With all due respect, sir, I feel my place is in the field, not in an administrative position."

"But you wouldn't be here _all_ the time – every active SeeD, commander or not, will have to fulfill a yearly quota of field assignments," Cid said.

"It is significantly lower than that of the normal SeeD, sir. I feel I can best serve Garden by directly carrying out the wishes of its clients."

"And is that all that matters to you?"

"I don't understand the question, sir."

"Don't play dumb with me. I was hoping you'd have grown out of that by now. I created the position for you. I've carried it over into peacetime for you."

Funny, Squall thought, I don't recall asking you for anything.

"I was also hoping you would take the time afforded you by reduced fieldwork to become better acquainted with Rinoa. I shouldn't have to remind you of the importance of the development of a strong bond between the two of you."

Squall wanted to leap across the desk and strangle him. He would follow Cid's orders and trust the headmaster's judgment in the most hopeless of scenarios on the battlefield, but he'd be damned if the old man would tell him how to manage a relationship.

"No, sir."

Cid allowed several silent moments pass before he spoke again.

"It's only been a week since the defeat of Ultimecia. Are you sure that you don't want some more time to think it over? Are you certain that this is what you want?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right, then," Cid said. "As of now you are demoted to rank A SeeD. I will, however, keep the position open for you, should you happen to change your mind. As I said, the position was created for you."

Squall felt no guilt at Cid's words, only the weight of an entire Garden lifting off his shoulders.

"If there's nothing else, you are dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Squall stood and saluted, then turned and walked out of the headmaster's office. After only a few steps down the hallway, he heard Cid's voice come over the public address system.

"Good morning, staff and students, this is your headmaster speaking. I have just a brief announcement for you all: Squall Leonhart has stepped down as commander of Balamb Garden. He will, however, remain at Garden as a member of SeeD. That's all for now – have a great day, everyone!"

A small boy stared at Squall in the sunlit corridor. "Why'd you _quit_?" he asked.

"Get to class," he said after a moment, and walked away. When he returned to his dorm, he found a note on his door.

_Sorry, Squall, but with the all the new students we're expecting, most SeeDs are going to have to share a dorm with someone until we can get some renovations done. Some of the SeeD singles are going to be used as doubles for the cadets. Your new dorm will be number 246. I know it's on short notice, but Cid wanted me to have you moved out of there by noon today. The first group of new cadets will be arriving this morning. _

_Thanks,_

_Xu_

_P.S. – If it's any consolation, I've arranged for a friend of yours to be your roommate! _

Crumpling the paper into a ball, Squall shot it hard into the waste basket across the room. He had anticipated retaliation of some sort from Cid, but he hadn't expected him to move so fast.

He sat down on his bed. It was going to be a long day, he thought, but at least he could hide in his dorm all morning under the pretense of packing up his things, though he had few belongings in his dorm.

Reaching beneath his bed, he pulled out a large green canvas bag. He unzipped it and had begun to pack when the P.A. rang out over his head again, Quistis' voice echoing in his small room.

"Squall Leonhart, please report to the cafeteria."

You've got to be kidding me, he thought.

"Squall Leonhart, please report to the cafeteria. _Immediately._"

He considered ignoring the summons for a moment, but knew that he would have to face his friends sooner or later. He hadn't discussed this decision with anyone before he went to Cid's office, and he owed them some kind of an explanation.

Quistis, Zell, Irvine, and Selphie were waiting for him, seated at a single table in the quiet cafeteria. Classes had begun for the day, and the cadets had poured out of the cafeteria and into their respective classrooms ten minutes ago. Rinoa was currently in a student management class with Instructor Aki. Soon she would become Balamb Garden's first civilian instructor as she took the position of choirmaster, teaching boys', girls', and mixed choir, in addition to individual voice lessons.

Squall steeled himself as he sat down, knowing full well what was coming.

"C'mon, Squall! What's the deal?"

"What the hell are you thinking?"

"I can't believe you would do this, Squall!"

"Did you give any consideration to how this would affect the students who look up to you?"

Squall sighed. "Quistis, don't you have a class to teach? Selphie, Irvine, don't you guys have planning to do for the reconstruction of Trabia Garden? Zell, don't you have… Anything better to do?"

"It's Monday. This is my planning period, Squall."

"The Committee for the Reconstruction of Trabia Garden doesn't convene until noon."

"Not really."

There was no way out of this. "Look," Squall said, "I went along with the 'commander' thing in a time of crisis, but I never wanted the job in the first place and I don't want it now."

"What's so bad about it, anyway?" Zell asked.

"Now that Ultimecia's dead, it's going to be 90 paperwork. Cid said so himself. I didn't spend years training here to become a SeeD so I could sit behind a desk all day."

"I think you're just afraid of responsibility," Irvine said.

"Responsibility for _who_?" Squall asked.

"The students."

"_Rinoa_."

Squall stood up quickly, sending his chair sliding backwards with an abrasive skid across the tiled floor.

"I told you why," he said. "Now if the group therapy, interrogation_, whatever, _is over, I have to go pack up my things and move into a new dorm."

"Oh, you're moving, too?" Irvine asked as Squall pushed in his chair. "What room number?"

"246," Squall said, turning away from him. Anybody but _Irvine_…

"Well, well, well," the sharpshooter said. "Looks like we're going to be roommates!"

The ex-commander left the cafeteria like a condemned man towards the gallows. His feet seemed to drag, as if his ankles were chained together. He wondered how he'd explain this to Rinoa. _I love you more than anything in the world, honest, but I'd rather kill people and play bodyguard for politicians than spend time with you. I hope you'll understand._

When he saw her for the first time, he was bringing his things to his new dorm, his canvas bag slung over one shoulder, his SeeD uniform over another, and his cased gunblade under his left arm.

"Hyne, Squall, would it kill you to make a second trip?" Nida had said with a smirk as he passed.

"Shut up," Squall had replied.

"Squall, there you are!" Rinoa said. "What are you doing?"

"Moving," he muttered.

Walking at his side as he made his way to room 246, Rinoa took the heavy gunblade case.

"Thanks," he said. Rinoa grunted.

"How do you _carry_ this thing all the time?"

Squall shrugged. "Look, Rinoa, about this morning…"

"We'll talk about it later," she said, cutting him off. "My brother's going to be here any minute."

"What?" Squall asked, stopping at his new dormitory. "Today?"

"Yes!" she said, pressing the button that opened the door. "Don't tell me you forgot."

As the door slid open, Irvine's tall figure filled its frame.

"Howdy," he said, tugging the wide brim of his hat to Rinoa. Squall pressed the button on the wall, and the door shut.

"I'm sorry."

Rinoa sighed and set the gunblade case down at his feet. "Just be there for dinner tonight," she said. "Please."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"All right, Squall. See you then." She came to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek before she turned and headed to the first floor lobby.

He watched her leave until she was out of sight. The door slid open again behind him.

"Ouch," Irvine said.

Picking up his gunblade case, Squall walked into the dormitory he now shared with the sharpshooter.

* * *

Matthew Caraway felt naked in Balamb Garden. Though he was thankful for the cover provided by the group of new students he had been put into, he was the sole transfer from Galbadia Garden, and the cadet uniform of his former Garden drew the attention of anyone who looked his way. He hadn't been a part of the battle between the two Gardens: his father, General Caraway, pulled him from Galbadia Garden as soon as Edea had arrived in Deling City.

But the students of Balamb Garden didn't know that, and Matthew knew they would remember his face. Even when he wore Balamb's uniform, they would remember where he came from. They would remember friends who had died at the hands of students of his Garden, regardless of whose orders they were following. He would have to be on his guard at all times.

He looked for his sister as the group made its way to the headmaster's office, following Xu to the elevator, but he still hadn't seen Rinoa. He wasn't sure if he was excited, scared, or angry. Matthew was left by himself on the first floor as the rest of the group went up to see Cid. Since all the other students were new to Garden (though he was only seventeen, he was clearly the oldest of the group), Cid had decided to talk with him separately afterward.

As he waited for Xu to call him up to the headmaster's office, Rinoa walked up the stairs toward him. It was the first time he had seen her in over a year. His attending Galbadia Garden had kept them separated most of the year, but he hadn't seen her at all since she ran off to Timber to thwart their father. Please, he thought, don't hug me. Not here. Not now.

"Hi, Matt," she said. Rinoa _wanted_ to hug him, but she knew he hated that. Matt always looked like he needed a hug, she thought. He was quiet like Squall, and a loner, but lacked the confidence and natural charisma that drew people to loners. Of a slender build and only an inch taller than his sister, the dark-haired young man also failed to exude the quiet strength that Squall possessed.

"Good morning, Rinoa," he said. "It's good to see you."

She smiled sadly at his tone, which was so like her father's already – detached and rigidly polite, even in the most emotional situations. Rinoa wondered as she approached him if it was too late to save the almost lifeless boy, and how much of his demeanor she was responsible for. The death of their mother had caused a rift between them, as it had between Rinoa and General Caraway.

The family that remained had all reacted in their own way – Caraway had become cold and even more distant than he had been. Rinoa resented him for it and had barely spoken to him since, breaking her silence toward him only for the occasional argument. Matthew had thought he could make his father happy again by making him proud, by living his life like he thought his father wanted him to.

If Matthew Caraway had made his father proud, the General had never shown it.

"How do you like it here?" he asked, leaning against the wall as she stood before him and looked him over.

"It's good," she said. "I like it here a lot. I think you will, too, once you get used to it."

Rinoa really loved the academy, but she was here for Squall and her feelings on the Garden seemed to correlate with her feelings for him. She knew it would pass, but she wasn't exactly sure of her feelings for the ex-commander at the moment.

"I hope so," he said, returning the stares of passing students with discreet glances of his own as a moment of silence passed between the two of them.

"Father says hello," he said. "And that he hopes things are going well for you."

"That's nice of him."

"He also wanted me to tell you that he would like to meet with commander Leonhart sometime soon."

"Did you transfer all the way over here just deliver his messages?"

Matthew looked away from her.

Rinoa covered her face with a hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "I haven't been having a very good day."

He shrugged.

"Anyway, Squall's no longer the commander of Garden," she said.

"Really? Why's that?"

"I'm not even sure, but—" she began, and was cut off by Xu's voice booming out over the P.A. above them.

"Matthew Caraway, please report to the headmaster's office."

The elevator beside him descended from above and opened, the group of new students piling out toward the dormitories, led by Nida.

"We'll talk later, okay? Are you still coming to dinner tonight?"

He hesitated at the threshold of the elevator.

"Please?" she said. "All my friends will be there. I'll introduce you to everyone."

"All right," he said before stepping into the elevator. "I'll see you then."

Might as well get it over with, he thought.

* * *

The favored restaurant of Balamb Garden's student body was slow on Monday nights. There was better food to be found in the small town, but it was also more expensive. It was a familiar place for Squall, Quistis, Zell, and Petra, his girlfriend who worked in the library. Joining them tonight were Irvine, Selphie, and Matthew Caraway. Seated at two tables joined together in the back of the restaurant, the groups' couples had arranged themselves across from each other, Quistis and Matthew paired off at the end by necessity.

These situations left a bitter taste in Quistis' mouth. Glancing at the morose boy across the table, she wished she had simply declined Rinoa's invitation. Though their group of friends gathered whenever possible - knowing they would soon be severed when Selphie and Irvine left for Trabia - this particular gathering, Quistis knew, was to introduce everyone to her brother, who clearly wanted no part of the proceedings. He would at least make for an interesting student, she thought, remembering from the glance she had taken at his file that he was assigned to her class.

The fan club that she had once found somewhat flattering had begun to grate on her when she realized that Squall really loved Rinoa. She was embarrassed by the attention they lavished upon her, and felt after Squall's rejection and subsequent embracing of a girl her complete opposite that she was completely undeserving of it. Quistis actually found herself grateful for a student that didn't give a damn about her.

"So what do you do for fun, Matthew?" she asked.

"Reading, I guess," he said after a self-conscious pause.

"Any authors in particular?"

"I don't really read fiction," he said. "Mostly history and science texts."

"How do you _not _read fiction?" Rinoa asked, sitting next to Quistis.

Matthew shrugged. "There's enough to learn about _this_ world without having to worry about made-up ones."

Rinoa groaned. "The _world _isn't the point. The people are. And besides, not every piece of fiction is science fiction or fantasy."

"Well, that's all _you_ read," he shot back quietly.

Zell didn't miss the remark, and laughed. "Rinoa's a closet nerd! I _knew_ it!"

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you," Petra said with her arm around him. "Why don't you take us all back to your room and show everyone your bookcase full of graphic novels?"

"That's so below the belt," he said. "I might have to pay you back for that one."

"Dod history and science texts pass for fun in Galbadia Garden?" Quistis asked Matthew as she noticed that neither he nor his sister had joined in the laughter.

"Well, there's hockey and tennis."

"Did you play?"

"No."

Quistis chuckled. I bet I can start finishing his sentences by the end of the week, she thought.

"Think you'll be up for a melee combat evaluation tomorrow morning?"

He nodded.

"Already?" asked Selphie. "He just got here!"

Quistis shrugged. "Cid's idea. The Garden as a whole is shifting its focus away from GF's and junctioning. Until we can figure out a way to prevent memory loss - if there _is_ a way - GF's are to be used as sparingly as possible."

"I'd be careful if I were you, kid," Irvine said. "That whip of hers isn't just a sexy accessory."

The instructor rolled her eyes. Selphie shot him a glare.

Irvine winced and tugged his hat down over his eyes. "Tough crowd."

* * *

"Irvine."

"Yeah?"

"Why is Selphie in our dorm?"

"I'm not," she said with a giggle.

"You're in violation of Garden protocol. It's after curfew. Go back to your dorm."

"C'mon, man, she's only in violation if Garden _knows _she's in here. Garden doesn't have to know."

"Selphie," Squall said in the dark. He heard the springs of Irvine's bed creak lightly and footsteps moving to the door. When it opened, Selphie took advantage of the hallway light pouring into the room to stick her tongue out at Squall.

"You're no fun at all," she said as she left. The door closed behind her and the room was dark and silent again.

"Just because your girl's pissed at you doesn't mean you have to ruin everybody else's fun," Irvine said after a moment.

"It's none of your business," Squall said. "And she's not _pissed_ at me."

"How would you know? You barely said a word at dinner."

"I'm going to talk to her in the morning, all right? Are you done?"

"Yep," Irvine said. "Good luck."

* * *

Notes: Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated - comments, criticism, questions, suggestions, all that fun stuff. 


	2. Second Promise, First Dance

Chapter 2: Second Promise, First Dance

Rinoa looked up with an apologetic smile as Squall approached her. She hastily gathered the papers covering the table into a neat pile in front of her.

"Sorry," she said as he sat down.

"Don't worry about it. How are things coming along?"

"Good. Aki's got me just about whipped up into 'instructor' shape, and the classes have been filled. Now I've just got to figure out what they're going to sing," she said with a small laugh, gesturing to the sheet music on the table.

"When's the first class?"

"Next Monday," she said. "So I've got just under a week to get everything together."

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

"No, not really. They're just kids, right?"

Squall nodded. Just kids, he thought. Even if she disapproved of Garden turning them into mercenaries, they were still just kids to her. Regardless of what they would go on to do on the battlefield, she would teach them to sing.

Rinoa watched him sip from a bottle of water in the moment of silence between them, noting that she'd never seen him drink coffee. She thought it was very typical of him, to eschew the immediate benefits of something he would eventually come to rely on, as if readying himself for the inevitable day when it would disappear forever. If coffee and people were to one day become extinct, Squall Leonhart would be adequately prepared.

"So, Squall," she said, knowing she would have to take the initiative if she were to wring an answer out of him. "Did I do something wrong?"

He quickly shook his head. That wasn't the question he expected. "No," Squall said. "No, of course not."

"Then why don't you want to be here?"

Squall was silent for a moment, unprepared for her bluntness. They hadn't spoken very much in the week that followed their victory over Ultimecia, and he had forgotten how quickly she could cut to the root of his problems.

"Because I wasn't trained to be _here_," he said, ashamed of his self-defense mechanism even as he spoke. That he had to put up these walls instead of simply telling her. His empty words tumbled out before he could stop them. "I'm a soldier, Rinoa. You knew that when you moved here."

"_Giving_ orders doesn't make you any less of a soldier, Squall. When I moved here, I didn't think I'd spend most of my time waiting for you to come home from missions. Wondering _if _you'll come home… I moved here because I wanted to be with you."

"You know I can take care of myself."

"Of course I do!" she said. Looking around the crowded cafeteria, she lowered her voice before she continued. "But that was different, when we were fighting Ultimecia. She wanted to destroy the entire world. But the jobs that SeeD does… It's just taking sides, whichever one will pay the most."

"What are you getting at, Rinoa? You hired SeeD yourself."

"Yes, and the Timber Owls happened to be fighting for a just cause. But not everyone who hires SeeD is, and you know that. Garden isn't the military of Balamb – it's an academy of mercenaries. So wrong or right, you'll follow your orders."

He looked away. "That's right."

"So why insist upon working in the field, then? Do you enjoy killing? Do you really need to shed blood with your own hands?"

Squall looked back to her as if she had slapped him.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching across the table to put her hands on his arm. "I didn't mean that."

Rinoa hadn't meant what she said, but she _had _meant to get his attention. Even if it hurt him a little, she had to remind him that she compromised her morals by living here. She didn't expect anything in return from him, not right away, but she wanted her presence at Garden to be worthwhile.

"I _know_ you don't enjoy killing, Squall. Nobody here _enjoys_ it. I wouldn't be here if I couldn't see that. I accept what Garden does, even if I disagree with it – because I know the people here are good. Because I want to be with you and our friends."

"Just tell me why," she said. "Even if it's because you don't want me here."

"Don't think that," he said, stung with guilt.

"What am I supposed to think? We had one perfect night, and it's like you've been avoiding me ever since."

Squall's eyes drifted away from hers. "You're right," he said. "It was perfect. But I don't know where to go from there. I don't know what it's like to be in a serious relationship. I've went out with a couple of girls, but never for very long. They never meant anything to me."

"Until recently," he continued, "I didn't even realize I had friends."

Rinoa took his hands into hers and leaned across the table a little toward him. "Take your job back and we'll have a lot more time to figure it out, together."

"I can't."

She sank back into her seat.

"Rinoa, I'm sorry. I just need some time to figure things out."

"All right. Just promise me you'll think about it?"

"I promise."

Rinoa smiled and stood up. She came around the table to where he sat and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I'm glad we talked, Squall. See you later."

* * *

Matthew Caraway sized up his opponent as they faced each other in the mountainous training grounds behind Balamb Garden. Instructor Quistis Trepe was nearly two inches taller, and, he assumed, his equal in physical strength. The diminutive cadet made up for his lack of power with immense speed, but knew this would be his only advantage, if he had it at all.

He held his weapon in both hands at his waist, a six-foot long quarterstaff, this particular one unadorned and lightweight for training purposes. The instructor's weapon was a ten-foot bullwhip, meaning that both of them would be vying for long-range attacks. He had never, in Galbadia Garden, faced an opponent who used a whip, nor had he encountered much reading on the fighting styles of its users. On the other hand, staves were among the most often-used weapons in history, and the instructor would know exactly what strikes to expect within minutes of engagement.

When he took into account her substantial edge in combat experience, Matthew fully expected to lose this "evaluation." The only victory he could hope for was to make a good impression.

"Begin," she said.

Knowing the instructor would adapt quickly to his attacks, Matthew immediately took the offensive. Closing the twelve foot gap between them quickly with a sprint, he brought the end of his staff upwards toward the instructor's jaw. She hopped back a step to evade the blow, and brought her whip around with an explosive, practiced snap to wrap around his ankle. In a fluid motion, she pulled upwards, the length of her weapon uncoiling rapidly as the light young man was sent several feet into the air before hitting the ground.

He landed painfully on his shoulders and neck, but rolled backwards onto one knee and thrust his staff in a one-handed grip at the instructor's midsection. Side-stepping inside of the attack, she knew he would have to draw the staff back to him before he could strike with it again and drove toward him, launching her knee at his face.

The palm of Matthew's free hand came into the side of her knee to disrupt its path, and her red skirt only grazed his ear. His staff drew back swiftly into the leg she stood on, sweeping her ankle out from under her. It was her turn to land back-first in the dirt, and Matthew stood, waiting for her to rise, as was the protocol for training matches. He took the moment of respite to crack his neck and rotate his shoulders, and knew as the bones popped that he would feel it tomorrow.

"Very good," she said as she stood up. The match continued in this manner for several more minutes, neither gaining an advantage or able to land a deciding blow, a dance of evasion and deflected strikes. Matthew was fast enough to dodge and guard against her attacks, but the instructor was able to correctly predict his before he made them. She saw in his eyes, as the fight progressed, that his confidence gradually deteriorated as he was denied any advantage. Quistis could read in his movements, which began to lose their grace and fluidity, that less thought was being put into his attacks and defense. To maintain his speed, which Quistis knew to be superior to hers, Matthew was relying almost purely on an undeveloped instinct now.

Quistis waited for an opening, and found one. He had brought his staff upward toward her jaw again, as he had in his initial attack. But this was not the controlled, probing strike that the first one was. Matthew swung upwards in a wide arc from his feet. She had expected the attack as soon as the far tip of his staff had begun to drag in the dirt as he closed in on her. Evading the vertical strike with an efficient pivot, she turned her side to him like a fencer and lashed out with her whip, which snapped into his exposed midsection just as his arms cleared his shoulders.

She caught his staff as it dropped from his hand and looked down to where he kneeled, holding his stomach. She set the weapon down in front of him and coiled her whip at her belt.

"Enough for today?" she asked with a gentle half-smile. No matter how far gender equality had progressed, she had come to realize that there was a boy inside of most men who hated losing to a girl. She had hoped that the pragmatic boy would be above such petty hostility, and was disappointed to see him staring in disbelief at where she had struck him.

But then she saw the angry red slash across his uniform as he moved a bloody hand away from where he'd been hit. She had sliced cleanly through his uniform and the shirt he wore beneath it. A steady stream of blood poured down from the long cut and ran down onto his belt.

"Oh, no," Quistis said.

* * *

"How did this happen?" Dr. Kadowaki asked as she wrapped bandages around Matthew's bare midsection. Quistis stood nearby and looked on with her arms folded, biting her lip.

"I was training," he said.

"With who?"

"Instructor Trepe."

"Quistis!" Dr. Kadowaki said, reeling on the instructor.

"It was an accident, doctor," Quistis said. "I'm still adjusting to unjunctioned combat and I struck with more velocity than I had intended."

The doctor sighed. "I never thought I'd have to tell _you_ this, but please be careful not to injure your partner while training, Quistis."

"Yes, Dr. Kadowaki. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to _me_," the older woman muttered before turning back to Matthew, who was looking out the window.

"How does it feel now?" she asked.

"Fine," he said. "Thank you."

Dr. Kadowaki nodded. "You can take your student now, Quistis. Make sure he stays away from physical training for at least week, so the cut can heal properly."

"And try not give him any more, instructor," she added as the two of them left the infirmary, Matthew pulling his ripped, bloody t-shirt back on as they entered the corridor. He attracted as much attention in his current state as he had in his Galbadia cadet uniform yesterday. So much for blending in, he thought.

"I'm very sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it."

"Does it hurt?"

"A little. Not really."

She stopped and looked out the window at the morning sun. "You can take today's classes off, if you want to rest," she said.

Matthew shook his head. "No, thank you. If I could just go back to my dorm and change my shirt…"

Quistis turned back to him and smiled. "Certainly," she said. They continued walking.

"Why did you stop trying?" she asked after a moment.

"I don't recall surrendering, instructor," he said.

"But you stopped trying to win."

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his gaze focused forward. "I never expected to win, instructor," he said.

"Why fight if you don't think you can win?"

Matthew shrugged. "It was a training exercise, an evaluation. I did—"

"Hyne, Matt, what happened? Are you okay?" Rinoa cried, rounding the corner in front of him and looking at his bloody t-shirt in horror.

"Who did this?" she said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "What happened?" she asked Quistis.

The instructor bit her lip again. Matthew gently shrugged out of Rinoa's grip.

"Quistis?" Rinoa persisted. "What happened?"

"We were training," Quistis said. "And…"

"And you _cut _him?" Rinoa asked, taking a confrontational step closer to Quistis.

"Rinoa, stop," Matthew said, stepping between them. "It was an accident. The wound isn't serious."

She lifted up her brother's shirt up to his chin and pointed to the bandages. "No? Well, that's an awfully big band-aid, then!"

He quickly pulled his shirt back down and pushed her hands away, his face reddened. "Cut it out," he whispered at his sister.

"I'm sorry," Quistis said to Rinoa. "It was an accident. I'm still getting used to fighting without a GF, and I didn't mean to..."

A bell sounded above them, indicating that two minutes remained until the first class of the day.

"I have to get changed before class, Rinoa. I'll see you later," Matthew said.

"Matt, you can't—"

He walked quickly away from her, heading toward the dorms.

Rinoa looked back to Quistis. "I can't believe you _cut _him."

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right way to handle this?" Edea asked her husband, leaning against his desk. She was reading over a mission file, and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Yes," he said. The headmaster removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"The more he's away from Garden, away from Rinoa, the more he'll want to come back."

"But is it fair to Rinoa, to keep him out him out on non-stop assignments?"

"What _Squall _is doing is unfair to Rinoa. I'm just trying to fix it."

Edea turned to face him and set the manila folder on his desk.

"Don't worry," he said. "He'll come around."

"And what if he doesn't? Then what becomes of Rinoa?"

"You know Squall better than that."

"I thought I did," she said. "I didn't think him capable of such selfishness."

Cid stood up and came around the desk to put his arm her. "I know you feel bad about having to give your powers to Rinoa, but you can't blame yourself, dear," he said. "Squall will come around."

"They're going to be fine," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Rinoa's got a job to do here, and Squall _will_ come to his senses.."

"I hope so," she said.

* * *

Squall sat on his bed, headphones connected to a portable CD player wrapped around his ears to drown out the country music Irvine and Selphie were listening to while they played Triple Triad in Irvine's half of the dorm. Zell entered the room unheard and promptly smacked the paperback novel up and out of Squall's hands. A blobra card used as a bookmark sailed out the open window. Squall sighed and looked up irritably. Zell was saying something. Squall pressed the pause button on his disc player and tossed the headphones onto the bed.

Zell held a piece of paper inches from Squall's face. "Check it out!"

Squall took it from him and read it over. "Back to Dollet, huh?" He handed it back to Zell.

"Yep," the blond man said, beginning to shadow-box. "Wonder what we're gonna be doing."

"I'm sure Cid will let us know in the morning," Squall said.

"You excited?"

"Not really. But it's a job."

"Exactly!" Zell said, sitting down next to Squall on the bed. "I've been so damn _bored_ all week."

Squall stood and picked up his book. He tried to find the page he was on.

"So did you work things out with Rinoa yet?"

"Hyne."

"What?" Zell asked.

"I should just keep a journal of our relationship on the Garden message boards."

"That'd be pretty cool. Don't know why you'd want everyone knowing—"

"I _don't_, Zell."

"Oh."

Irvine had walked into the room and was pulling two sodas out of a small refrigerator. "I saw them kissing this morning, Zell. I think everything's cool," he said.

Squall scowled at the grinning cowboy until he went away, and then began to sift through his card collection for a suitable bookmark.

"Look, man," Zell said. "People care about you. Deal with it."

Holding a geezard card between two fingers, Squall slid it back to where he had left off in the book. He tossed the novel back onto his bed.

"Do I seek constant updates on your relationship with Petra, or Irvine and Selphie?"

Zell grinned and stood up. "No," he said. "Because you don't care. Or at least you pretend like you don't. And you know what, Squall? People are kind of offended by that."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, _we're _not offended. We're your friends and we know that you're a good guy, even if you're a real bastard sometimes. But staying out of everybody else's business doesn't help anyone. See, to most people, having someone ask how you and your girlfriend are doing is a _good_ thing. It makes you feel nice, you know? That what you have is a good thing."

"And what you and Rinoa have is definitely a good thing," Zell continued. "In fact, you're probably the luckiest guy in the world to have attracted someone like her with _your_ personality."

"Hyne, Zell, I wasn't aware that I had a psychiatrist."

The fighter chuckled and clapped Squall on the shoulder as he headed to the door. "Dude, you _know_ I'm right. Lighten up a little, because you're stuck with us for life. That's what friends do."


	3. Love and Duty

Chapter 3: Love and Duty

Matthew had expected hostility from the students of Balamb Garden. He had been raised to be cautious, to be aware, and to keep his eyes open. One of the few lessons General Caraway had personally delivered to his son was, "Never sit in a room with your back to the door." His father had never said anything about _sleeping_ with your back to the door, and Matthew was doing just that when he encountered hostility well beyond dirty looks and whispers.

The attack was carried out with precision that Garden's administration would have found admirable, had it been executed by SeeDs for a paying client. Matthew's roommate had opened the door after midnight, admitting three silent cadets. They rolled him over in his bed, subdued him with two quick fists to his wounded stomach, and silenced him with a mouthful of cloth, his lips sealed by a long piece of duct tape. Gloved hands turned him onto his stomach, suppressed further struggles with a solid punch to his kidneys, and bound his hands together behind his back with more tape.

One boy stood by the closed door, and whispered for the others to hurry up. They pulled Matthew off the bed, and landed on his stomach with a dull thud. They stomped at his legs, immobilizing them instead of binding them, and then hoisted him up by his arms. The boy at the door was outside of the room now, and his hand darted back in to signal that the hall was clear.

Matthew noted as they dragged him along that the volunteer security detail, made up of especially trustworthy cadets, was absent from the entire left side of the circular first floor hallway. He didn't bother to struggle as his nostrils, hungrily sucking in quick breaths for his sealed mouth, took in the crisp night air. Matthew's captors brought him to the end of winding quad, and threw him into the ground. His forehead bounced off the cool blue tiling like a tennis ball hitting the clay courts at Galbadia Garden.

Three boys stood over him as he rolled onto his back, his mid-section burning as he lay back on his crossed wrists. One stood in the distance as a lookout. The tallest of the three cadets surrounding him strode slowly forward, and lifted Matthew up by his shirt, two fists buried in the thin fabric.

"Now that we don't have to be quiet…" he said. Matthew could see the cadet's face clearly in the moonlight, and saw no sadism as he looked up into the taller boy's eyes. There was no trace of pleasure or mocking in his tone. The calm, determined face inches from his own contorted without warning and then disappeared behind a fierce punch that rocked the side of his mouth. Matthew's legs gave way, and he dropped to the ground again in a heap. He could feel warm blood spread beneath the duct tape over his mouth.

The cadet crouched down by Matthew's side, shaking out his fist. "I had a sister," he said quietly.

"Her name was Coraline, and she was fourteen years old the day she died."

He looked back over his shoulder and nodded to a cadet behind him. The boy came forward, pulling a small knife from a sheath at his belt. The fine, sharp blade winked at Matthew in the moonlight. The cadet at Matthew's side rolled him onto his stomach, where his wrists were cut loose. His left hand was pushed painfully up behind his back, and his right hand was held out at his side, his palm facing up.

"She died when our students from your Garden invaded ours," he said, and Matthew felt the sharp chill of the blade touch his palm.

The knife began to dig in and slice across Matthew's palm. He screamed into the cloth that filled his mouth.

"Coraline died at the _hands_ of students who belonged to your Garden."

Matthew's hand shook violently as the knife slid off the other side of his palm. Blood gushed from his hand as it was pinned at his back where the other had been. His free hand was brought out to his side, his white palm turned upwards to cup moonlight. Matthew's eyes had rolled back into his head, and tears streamed from his fluttering eyelids.

"So whether you killed her with your own hands or not," the boy said, the knife making its way through soft flesh. "Maybe you'll think twice before you use them to take the life of an innocent."

When the knife finished its work, he was rolled again onto his back. The third cadet came forward with the duct tape, and wrapped Matthew's bloody hands, tightly winding several layers over the gashes in his palms. The cadet holding the knife wiped off the blade on Matthew's shirt and returned it to its leather sheath.

The boy with knife and the boy with the duct tape turned and walked back toward the lookout. The tall boy remained and slapped Matthew's face lightly. His eyes opened.

"Keep this a secret," he said. "And you can stay. This was just a lesson – if we wanted to kill you, we'd let you bleed out here all night. But if you give up your roommate, identify any of us, you _will_ die. After you watch _your _sister die. Everyone loves Rinoa, we're all glad to have her here. Don't make us take her away just to teach you a lesson."

"Welcome to Balamb Garden," the cadet said, his tone sincere, his hard features softening as he looked Matthew over. A burden seemed to have been lifted from him. Matthew's body burned with pain, hot blood pulsing beneath his bandaged stomach and taped hands.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set in Balamb when Squall and Zell pulled into the Garden parking lot and stepped out of the car. Xu was waiting for them when they arrived.

"Hey, Squall," she said, "Sorry to do this to you, but Cid needs you to come right to the infirmary."

"Why? Rinoa's not hurt or anything, is she?"

"No, she's fine." She turned to Zell. "You're free to go."

"Sweet. Good work today, Squall. Later." He turned off toward the cafeteria as Xu and Squall proceeded to the infirmary.

"So what's this about?"

"It's Rinoa's brother. Someone—probably a group—beat him and cut him up pretty bad. Slashed his palms, then taped up the wounds so he wouldn't bleed to death. Left him out on the quad, where a student found him around seven in the morning. Judging from how the blood had dried, he'd been out there more than a few hours."

He grimaced.

"We need to find who did it as quickly as possible."

"Any leads?"

She shook her head. "It was a clean job – no one saw or heard anything, and there was no evidence left behind."

"What about Caraway? He recognize anyone?"

"That's the problem. He says he doesn't remember anything."

Squall shrugged. "You said they beat him, right? Could have hit his head or something… Doesn't seem unreasonable to me."

"He's lying, Squall. Cid talked to him, I talked to him, and so did Quistis. We all agree."

They stood at the end of the short hallway that broke off the circular hall and led to the infirmary. Squall looked over Xu's shoulder where Rinoa stood outside the doors.

"So Cid wants me to interrogate Rinoa's brother."

"Yes."

"Is he out of his _mind_?" he whispered.

Xu shook her head. "You're the best we've got right now, and we need to get whoever was behind this _fast_. Galbadia puts a lot of emphasis on resistance-to-interrogation, so he's not going to be easy to break if it comes down to that."

"Cid apparently already knows it's going to come down to _that_. I'm not a guidance counselor. He wants me to torture Rinoa's brother, Xu. He's completely lost it."

"This wasn't some schoolyard fight, Squall. It was an elaborate and risky plot, carried out flawlessly. This could have been done by _SeeDs._ Look, I'm sorry - I know it puts you in a difficult position. But it's an order from the headmaster."

That he wouldn't dare deliver himself, Squall thought. He stepped around Xu and walked down the hallway to the infirmary. Rinoa had waited for him.

"How was the mission?" she asked.

"Fine," he said. "Xu told me what happened. How's your brother doing?"

"He's going to be okay."

Squall could see she'd been crying. "Are youall right?"

Rinoa nodded, and he took her into his arms before he thought about what he was doing. Squall was surprised at how quickly his hang-ups disappeared when he thought she needed him. It was like a reflex.

"When they brought him in this morning, Squall… My god, the _blood_…"

"I'm sorry, Rinoa," he said. "We're working on finding out who did it."

Xu approached them slowly, and Squall shot her a glare as he held Rinoa. She mouthed the word "sorry," and pointed upward. _Orders._

"Listen, Xu's going to take you to the cafeteria, get you some coffee, and I'll check on you later, all right? I think Zell was just heading down there, too. Maybe he'll show you the 'hot dog' trick if you ask him nicely."

She laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. "Do I want to know what that is?"

"It must be seen to be believed," he said, a small and earnest smile on his lips. "I'll see you in a little while, okay?"

Rinoa kissed him on the cheek. "Okay. Thanks, Squall."

Xu put an arm around her and led her away from the infirmary. Squall turned back to the doors and pushed through. Dr. Kadowaki was seated at her desk, and watched him as he entered. He could tell from her gaze that the doctor did not approve of this. Regardless, she left the room without a word. He locked the doors behind her. Matthew Caraway was awake, and his eyes followed Squall as he walked slowly toward where he lay. The cadet wore only his uniform pants, his arms and legs strapped tightly to the bed's metal frame. Shirtless, his bandaged stomach was exposed. His hands, wrapped in gauze, faced upward.

They've even prepared him for me, Squall thought. All I have to do now is Cid's dirty work. At the side of the bed, a tray of medical tools had been provided. He thought back to being tortured by Seifer in the desert prison and felt a pang of nausea in his stomach.

"All right," he said. "You know why I'm here."

"Yes," the cadet replied quietly.

"It doesn't have to go like this. I don't understand why you're refusing to tell anyone what happened. If you're afraid of their friends coming after you, Garden can keep you safe—"

"No," he interrupted. "I'm not a coward."

"Then tell me what you saw."

"I don't remember anything."

Squall picked up a scalpel. He unwrapped the gauze on the cadet's right hand and tossed it onto the tray.

"You're obstructing a criminal investigation," he said. "This is your last chance."

Matthew didn't reply, and closed his eyes. Squall closed his for a moment, letting everything but his objective slip away from him. _Make him talk._ _Quickly. _

Squall thrust the blade into the exposed wound. Matthew's eyes shot open, and he released a guttural scream as the scalpel twisted slowly inside his hand. "Tell me what you saw," he said quietly, pulling the blade out.

The cadet gnashed his teeth together. "I can't," he growled. Squall stabbed into the wound again. The cadet's cries rose again, and so did a sudden pounding on the door behind him.

"_Squall!_"

His head jerked around. _Rinoa._

"_Squall, what are you doing to him?_" she screamed.

Withdrawing the scalpel, he ran his free hand through his hair. The cadet before him moaned, sweat rolling down his forehead. Squall heard a clatter of footsteps approach Rinoa's violent sobs. She was being dragged away.

"_Stop it! Squall, stop! Please!"_

With both hands gripping his head now, he paced along the side of the bed where Rinoa's brother squirmed in agony, held tightly to the bed. He needed to end this now. Squall turned and slammed his fist into Matthew's stomach.

"Tell me what you saw!" Squall screamed, inches from the cadet's face with his fist still pressing down into his bandaged midsection. A red splotch began to form under his hand. Matthew howled with pain and coughed blood into Squall's face.

"It was my roommate!" he cried out after a few long seconds, his hands and legs thrashing in their restraints. Squall pulled his hand away.

"Who else?"

"It was him and three others," he said, writhing. Blood began to trickle from one side of his mouth. "I don't know them, but I remember their faces. I could I.D. them."

"Why wouldn't you tell anyone?"

"They said they'd kill Rinoa if any of them were caught."

Squall's head had been buried in his hands, but he looked up now.

"I know she's a sorceress, Squall. I know how unlikely it is that four cadets could kill a sorceress..."

"They were all cadets?"

"Yes… I didn't want her to get hurt. I didn't want to take the chance," he continued, his voice reduced to a whisper.

Squall pounded the emergency response button beside the bed that would summon Dr. Kadowaki to the room from wherever she was in the building. He unlocked the infirmary doors and left the room to vomit.

* * *

"I was under _orders_, Rinoa! Do you really think I _wanted _to do that to your brother?"

"Is that all you care about? Your _orders_?"

"You need to understand something - I'm in the military. We don't pick and choose the orders we follow."

"I'm sick of the military, Squall. It's kept my father away from my family, my brother away from me, and…"

She looked up at him. "I don't know if the military will ever let me have you, either."

He kneeled down in front of her where she sat against the outer wall of the quad. It was a warm night, and Squall knew they were in the exact spot where Matt Caraway had been found this morning. "I don't know what to say," he said. "This is who I am. I want to make you happy, Rinoa, but I can't leave Garden."

She wouldn't look at him, so he took her hand. "This is all I know how to do," he said. "I'm sorry that I can't be more for you."

"You can," she said quietly. "You can be commander. And you won't have to take…_orders_ like you had to tonight."

Squall nodded, though he knew that wasn't entirely true. "I'll talk to Cid in the morning," he said.

Like a reflex, he thought again. After all the thinking he had done, all it took was seeing that she needed him to take the job back, and the decision was made. Squall wondered if one day he would disobey orders, choose her over Garden. Maybe she'd only have to ask.

"I'm sorry," he said again before he left. She didn't follow him.

"I know," Rinoa said.


	4. Magic

Chapter 4: Magic

Warning: Some minor sexual content in this chapter.

* * *

Matthew awoke and was moving. The open window behind him let in sunlight, a warm breeze, and salty ocean air. Quistis Trepe sat beside him where he laid, her legs crossed, her hands cradling her elbows in her lap. He sat up and turned around to look out the window, saw the ocean speeding by below the Garden. The instructor caught a small smile on his face. When he looked back to her, she was grinning a little. Matthew's face reddened. 

"My father pulled me out of Galbadia before the Gardens became mobile," he said, looking up from his useless hands to Quistis's face.

She laughed. "You don't have to explain yourself. I _was_ wondering if you'd ever smile, but I didn't expect to see one this morning."

The curse of the socially inept, he thought. Crack a smile and everyone notices, which entirely defeats the purpose of such a demeanor. It was nice to make the instructor laugh, though, even if it was unintentional. Matthew revered authority figures to a fault, searching others for the approval that his father had never given. But this was something different, he thought, cocking his head to the side a little as he gazed at Quistis. She was looking out the window, and he took the opportunity to study her features. He liked her best out of everyone he had met in Balamb – she was a graceful and distant woman, a perceptive observer, capable of both kindness and scorn when compelled to speak.

"Something wrong?" she asked, catching him again. _Perceptive_.

He blushed again, looked back down to his hands. Matthew ran his thumb along the gauze.

"No," he said. "The medication is messing with my head, that's all…" he trailed off. Which is probably true, he thought.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little sore."

She nodded. "I'm sorry about… About Squall."

The cadet shrugged. "He did the right thing," he said. "I was obstructing a criminal investigation."

"You were protecting your sister. It was a brave thing to do."

"It was a _stupid_ thing to do." He wouldn't look at her now and Quistis sighed, knowing she had triggered his defenses by bringing up Rinoa. A bell sounded over their heads, and she stood up. Two minutes until the first class of the day began. Matthew had moved to the edge of the bed to stand as well, but she put her hands on his shoulders and gently sat him back down.

"Sorry," she said. "Dr. Kadowaki wants to keep you here today."

"Why?"

"To monitor your _internal bleeding_," Quistis said with a laugh, shaking her head. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but get some rest today, all right?"

She glanced to the doctor's desk, saw the doctor was still out of the room, then leaned forward and kissed the cadet on his cheek.

"And don't be afraid to smile," she said.

The instructor still had no answer for students like Seifer, but she had learned a lot from watching Rinoa change Squall. It killed her inside at the time, but she had learned. She had learned that one needed to be _direct_. A man who minds his own business won't pick up on subtle, half-hearted gestures, such as Quistis had made towards Squall, whom she had failed to reach both as a student (he was a natural; he didn't need her), and as a love interest (he never knew she loved him, and pushed her away when she poured her feelings out all at once). Matthew was not a gifted student or a talented soldier, but his strength, she knew, lay in his self-discipline and capacity for hard work, perhaps the only positive to come out of his upbringing.

For Squall, it had been the fear of abandonment that robbed him of a happy life – for Matthew Caraway, it was his father. The two of them were similar in so many ways, and she had initially wondered if that was the only reason she was attracted to the cadet. But the fundamental difference, she had found, was that while Squall was much stronger, Matthew was kinder and more aware of others – he was polite and selfless, made thoroughly modest by a severe lack of self-confidence. As a teacher and as a woman who was sick of being alone, she resolved to fill him with the confidence that would turn both of their lives around. All he had to do was allow her to.

Quistis believed he would.

She knew it wouldn't be easy (Quistis was not a natural at this sort of thing; she wasn't Rinoa), and perhaps she had already made a mistake (was a kiss on the cheek _too_ direct?), but the most fulfilling endeavors were always hard work, were always a risk.

And what could be more fulfilling than love?

* * *

Rinoa tingled as she walked along the bridge that connected Fisherman's Horizon to the continent of Esthar. The noon sky was blue and cloudless, the sun shining warm on the back of her neck. She was out here to get away from the Garden for a while, to get away from Squall, the re-appointed commander joining Cid in a meeting with the Horizon's repair crews. Ironic, she thought, that only two days earlier she had complained about him avoiding her. Now here I am, she thought, on a path that leads all the way to Esthar, just to put some distance between us. The tingling in her grew stronger as she walked, spreading through her body. She closed her eyes and listened to the ocean slosh against the bridge supports beneath her. 

When she opened them, the sky had turned to smoky shades of blue and purple. An orange sun was rising in the distance. She heard footsteps behind her, and then Squall walked by. As he passed, Rinoa saw herself, lifeless, with her arms around his neck and his hands supporting her legs.

He stopped and set her down gently, then sat down himself. Rinoa could tell from the way he hung his head that he was lost in thought.

"What do you think?" he asked aloud, turning to her unconscious form. "To tell you the truth… I worry too much about what others think of me."

He looked out to the sea that spread out endlessly around the bridge, the sun's reflection shimmering in the distant waters. "I hate that side of me… That's why I didn't want anyone to get to know me. I wanted to hide that side of myself. I hate it."

"_Squall_," he said bitterly, "is an unfriendly, introverted guy. It made it easy for me when people perceived me that way."

"That's a secret between you and me," he said after a moment, turning his head back to her. "Got that?"

He stood up and lifted her slowly onto his back. Squall began to walk again, looking over his shoulder where her head rested, his face close to hers. He spoke her name slowly, a trace of desperation in his voice, as if to say _just wake up._

_

* * *

_Rinoa sniffed, her face twisting into a grimace. She coughed and her eyelids fluttered opened. A dark hand held a dead fish in front of her face.

"Oh, gross!" she yelled, batting it away. It slid across the floor and she looked around for something to wipe her hand on; she had _touched_ it. Raijin stood with his hands on his hips, laughing loudly.

"Hey, it's just a fish, ya know?" he said, walking over to pick it up. "Ain't even alive!"

Tossing it from one hand to another, he left the room. "Rinoa's awake," she heard him say.

"Did you stick that dead fish in her _face_?" a familiar voice said after a pause. _Seifer_?

"Well, we don't have any _smelling salts_, ya know." Rinoa heard a thump, and Raijin's voice boomed a long, wordless cry of pain.

"Hyne, Fujin, I thought you said you'd quit doing that!" He moaned. "Ya know?"

"And you said you'd quit being so _stupid,_" a female voice snapped back, quiet and seething.

Then Seifer stepped into Rinoa's view. He saw her staring at her hand. "Oh," he said. "Did you touch it?" He dug through a laundry basket full of neatly folded clothes and pulled out a towel.

"Sorry about him," he said, jerking a thumb behind him over his shoulder. "He means well." Seifer tossed her the towel, which she caught in both hands and quickly made use of. She set the towel down after a moment and was sniffing her hand as he approached her slowly. She grimaced again. It's probably going to smell like that forever, she thought.

He sat down next to her on the couch. "Feel all right?" Seifer asked.

"Yes, thank you," she said, finally looking around the small room.

"Our _home_," he said, watching her eyes. He grinned. "Ain't it grand?"

"Seifer, how did I get here?"

"You were passed out on the bridge that leads to Esthar," he said. "We fish out there sometimes."

"Glad we did today. What happened?" Seifer asked. "What were you doing out there?"

"Just going for a walk. I don't know what happened." She rubbed her forehead with the hand that didn't smell like fish.

Seifer shrugged. "Well, as long as you're okay."

"What brings the Garden back here so soon?" He tried to ask the question with amused detachment, but Rinoa could hear genuine concern and a trace of eagerness in his voice.

"Squall and Headmaster Cid are planning renovations with some of the Horizon repair crew. Won't actually happen for a few weeks, but they're starting to plan now, I guess."

He nodded slowly. "So you're living there, huh?"

"Yes."

"Do you… _Like_ living there?"

"I do, Seifer."

"What do you _do_?"

"I'm a music teacher," she said, sitting up straight. "Boys, girls, and mixed choir. And private voice lessons."

He lowered his head a little. "Sorry," he said. Then he looked up and smiled a little. "Sounds perfect for you."

"You sing better than anyone I've ever heard in my life," he said. "Hell, you could be a pop star."

Rinoa held her mother's ring where it hung around her neck. "Not now," she said. "Have you seen how they _dress_?"

He grinned. "Like I said… You could be a pop star."

She felt Squall's ring on the chain and looked away from Seifer. She stood up.

"I'm sorry," he said, following her as she walked to the door. "That was out of line, I didn't mean to…" He put a hand on her shoulder as she opened the door.

"Rinoa."

She stopped and turned to face him.

"Are you really going to be happy there? Do you really belong in a military academy? Look, I know this isn't much, but you could stay with us if you wanted—"

"I know where I belong, Seifer," she said, smiling as she looked up at him. "Thanks for taking care of me. Goodbye."

* * *

The men from Fisherman's Horizon filed out of the Garden, back to their homes beneath the setting sun. Squall and Cid exchanged parting words with them, and turned back inside. They passed silently through the lobby and into the elevator. As it ascended to the third floor, the smiling headmaster finally spoke up. 

"So what do you think, now that you've got a taste of it?"

"A taste of what?"

"Your everyday duties as commander."

The elevator had stopped, and they walked into Cid's office. He gestured to his desk. "Paperwork, meetings, all that _fun_ stuff."

"I'll adjust to it." He rubbed his eyes, which began to water as he held in a yawn. "Eventually."

"I know you will. See you in the morning, Squall. We'll have a work station set up for you in here until we can get you an office of your own."

And it was as simple as that. Squall had talked to Cid in the morning, and was immediately reinstated as commander. The headmaster had made an announcement so everyone knew, and Squall was thrust into an eight hour meeting with the Fisherman's Horizon repair crew concerning Garden renovations. Most of the population of the Horizon took great pride in their chosen occupation, and their engineers and mechanics were no exception. They had talked at great length and had asked a great many questions; the meeting lasted nearly eight hours, and was conducted not only in the actual meeting room, but in every section of the Garden that would be affected by the proposed renovations. His joints ached with inactivity. Squall took the elevator down to the first floor and grabbed his gunblade from the dorm he shared with Irvine. He was walking into the training center as Rinoa was leaving the library.

"Squall!" she called out with a wave and jogged to him. "Would you hold on a minute while I go get my weapon? Would you mind if I came? I really need to talk to you."

He shook his head and hung the gunblade at his belt. "Forget the training center," he said. "Let's just walk."

"You sure? You probably didn't have a very exciting day…"

"Not at all," he agreed. "But I don't need to fight. Just as long as I can _move._"

_But I don't need to fight. _Rinoa knew he referred only to his indifference towards slaughtering grats, but she smiled at the statement all the same as they walked through the quiet halls. One step a time, she thought.

"You had a rough day yesterday," she said.

"Not as rough as it was on your brother. Rinoa, I'm—"

"You don't have to apologize again, Squall. What I wanted to say is that I don't…blame you, for what you did. You were put into an awful situation. It's hard for me to understand your job, but I thought about what I would have done, if I was in your place. And I realized that you were looking out for everyone here and that in the end… You can't just think about one person. You have to think about everyone."

Squall nodded, and she saw in his eyes that he'd realized this sad, bitter truth long before she had.

"I don't know if I could do that," Rinoa said. "And even though you had to do something terrible last night, I think it takes a lot of strength. More than I'll ever have. Even if what you have to do hurts me… Don't ever apologize for it, Squall, because I love that about you. The world _needs_ people like you."

"Stop it, Rinoa."

He shook his head. "Stop it. Don't justify what I did yesterday. Don't tell yourself it was the right thing to do. Just because there was no other solution, that doesn't make it right. Do you know why he wouldn't tell us who did that to him?"

"No," she said. "I talked to him this morning, but I didn't want to bring it up."

"Because they threatened to kill you if he did. He was trying to protect you. And I tortured him for it."

"Squall…"

They walked on, neither speaking, into the lobby.

* * *

Every once in a while, magic happens. It doesn't happen often, but it can happen anywhere, and at any time. Magic can be a good thing – two people meet each other at just the right time in their lives and it's _perfect_. Magic could bring people together. But like everything in life, magic had a dark side – it could bring people together. In the lobby of Balamb Garden, in the evening, magic brought people together. 

When Squall and Rinoa walked into the lobby, they immediately noticed Seifer Almasy, who stood talking with Cid at the directory. When Matthew Caraway descended from the second floor elevator and stepped out into the lobby, he also noticed Seifer Almasy.

The large room was silent for a moment, though it seemed to crackle with electricity. Finally, lightning struck, and in the unexpected form of Matthew Caraway.

"What the hell are you doing here, Almasy?"

"Matt, please," Rinoa pleaded. "Don't…"

"I don't need to remind you, Matthew, that Seifer was _possessed _by Ultimecia," Cid began.

Seifer held up a hand and shook his head before the headmaster could continue. "We've met before," he said quietly.

Rinoa took Squall's hand. He looked over and saw tears in her eyes. Matthew had come down the stairs and stood a few feet away from Seifer.

"What's going on here?" Cid asked slowly.

It was Rinoa who spoke up. "The last time I saw Matt, Seifer and I were…"

Squall waited for her continue, and realization dawned on him when she couldn't. His eyes widened.

"Rinoa… You… You _fucked _him?"

"Not exactly," Seifer said.

* * *

Matthew stepped past the night guard in front of his father's house, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. It was late, so he had shut the door quietly and stepped lightly as he made his way to General Caraway's office. He had come home from Galbadia Garden for his father's birthday, and carried a small box, a birthday present, under his arm. His father wouldn't be back until morning, so Matthew had decided to leave it on the general's desk to find when he began his work the next day. 

At the end of the hallway, he could see the light on in his father's office. Maybe he got home early, Matthew thought, and simply had work to do. But as he came closer, he knew the man behind the general's desk was _not_ the general, but a young blonde man. Matthew hadn't seen him before. His eyes were closed, and he leaned back in General Caraway's chair, his face turned upward. He smiled deliriously.

"Who the hell are you?" Matthew said from the doorway.

The blonde man cried out in surprise and jumped in his seat.

"Oww, Seifer!" an unseen female voice said.

Matthew instantly recognized the voice. _No_, he thought, _no_, _no_, _no_…

Rinoa's head appeared above the desk. "What was that for? You didn't even—"

She followed Seifer's eyes to the doorway, where her brother stood. The next day, Rinoa would leave Deling City for Timber. The next time she saw her brother, he would be a student at Balamb Garden, and she would be a sorceress.

* * *

Notes: 

The scene with Squall and Rinoa on the bridge was taken directly from the game. I also keep forgetting to mention that the title of the story was taken from a great album by a now-defunct band called Mineral. Thanks for reading!


	5. Indoor Fireworks

Chapter 5: Indoor Fireworks

"Rinoa, _please_ open the door."

"I said I was sorry," she said. "I can't look at you."

"You can't _look _at me?"

"Whenever you look at me now, that's going to be the first thing you think about… That it was _Seifer_."

"I don't care who it was—"

The sobbing on the other side of the door spiked in volume. Damn it, he mumbled to himself.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "What I meant is that it's none of my business, what you did before we met… You don't have to apologize."

He stood in the silent after-curfew hall, and turned his back to the door. He leaned against it. "It's just…unfortunate that it had to come out like that. You don't have to be ashamed of anything."

"Please just _go away_," she pleaded. "I just need some time alone."

Squall groaned. He had no talent for this. "Rinoa," he said, looking up and closing his eyes. He prayed that no one walked by and saw him out there. Not too long ago, I would do just that, he thought. I'd go away. Hell, I wouldn't have been out here in the first place. I would have thought someone in this position was pathetic – begging her to open the door and talk to me so she wouldn't go to sleep doubting my…_love _for her. And I must love her, he thought, I can't imagine acting so damn foolish for anyone else. Squall wasn't sure when he'd be ready to _tell _her that he loved her, but in the meantime he could at least be honest with her.

"Rinoa, when I look at you, I think about… Space," he began.

"What?"

"I meant the Ragnarok, when we were together up there in the cockpit… Do you remember when I said you should go back to your seat?"

"I was glad you didn't," he said.

"Then why'd you say it?"

He opened his eyes. "It's a reflex, I guess. I'd never been that…close to someone before," he said. "Scared the hell out of me."

There was a small laugh in between the sniffles on the other side of the door.

"But that's what I _wanted_, Rinoa. That's why I took you to Esthar, went up into space, jumped out _into_ space… And I was a real jerk to just about everyone in my way, too," he added quietly, as if realizing it for the first time.

"That's what I _always _wanted. The difference with you is that you made me realize it was worth the risk. Any time you get close to someone, you can lose them. But if you never take a chance, you spend your life alone and miserable."

"And it's what I _still_ want," he concluded, leaning his head back against the door. "Would you _please _open the door?"

To Squall's surprise, she did. The door slid open and he tumbled backwards into his room, grunting once in surprise and again as she caught him. She held him up under his upper arms. Squall tilted his head back and looked up at her.

"You're stronger than you look," he said.

She smiled. "I'm a sorceress, remember?" Rinoa gestured with her head toward the ceiling, and demonstrated her powers with a tiny fireworks display in one corner of the room.

"You've been practicing," Squall observed as he stood up and turned to face her.

"And you're awfully talkative," she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Sorry."

"Don't _apologize_," she said, pulling him into a hug. "It's a good thing."

They kissed, and the tiny fireworks display launched as grand a finale as it could.

"Did you still want to go out with everyone tomorrow night?" he asked to break the silence after their lips parted and they had sat down on a couch in the instructor's apartment that Rinoa had recently moved into.

"Of course," she said.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Uh-oh," she said with a mischievous smile. "Here comes the old Squall. Do I have to cry to make you be nice?"

"I guess so."

She backhanded him playfully in his shoulder. "Wrong answer."

"All right, all right… I'm working on it. How's that?"

"Better."

* * *

Matthew's mind reeled as he walked the empty dormitory hallways after curfew. A memory he had tried to lock away and forgot brought to the surface by his sister's own lips. He was so wrapped up in thoughts of Rinoa and Seifer and Quistis this morning and his throbbing hands that he never heard the footsteps behind him. They came like an orchestra's crescendo, culminating in a blow to the back of his head that filled his mind with _white. _When his eyes focused, he had stumbled forward and fallen to his hands and knees. He stood and stumbled backwards into a wall. Seifer approached him slowly.

"This is _twice_," he said, holding two fingers in the air. "This is _twice_ that you've screwed things up for me, you sulking little bastard."

Seifer threw a punch at his head, and Matthew ducked under it with little effort. He was a good nine inches shorter than his assailant. Matthew came back with a right cross at Seifer's jaw, but the tall blond man _swatted _it aside. Matthew's bandaged hands could barely make a fist. He sidestepped away from the wall, and faced Seifer in the middle of the hallway. They circled each other, the cadet with his hands up in a wary boxer's guard, and the former cadet merely removing his gloves.

"Before we had to spill that little story," Seifer said, "Cid was thinking about letting me come back to Garden. I could have had a _second chance_. And then you came along and ruined it, just like you did a year ago."

He had tossed his gloves aside, and came at Matthew with another punch, this one aimed at his stomach. The cadet twisted outside of it and threw his elbow at Seifer's lower back. Before it could connect, the taller man had drilled Matthew in the temple with his own elbow. The cadet fell to his knees again in the dark hallway. He crawled forward a couple feet before his head cleared and he could stand. Matthew heard the dull thud of Seifer's boots behind him. He heard the footsteps echoed in a higher register, a _click_ that could only be produced by high-heeled shoes.

"_Seifer_," a female voice said.

The blonde man jerked his head around to see Quistis standing behind him. Her honey hair shined in the darkness, spilling over the front of her shoulders. Her whip was coiled in her hands.

"Leave now, and Cid doesn't have to hear a word of this."

He turned slowly to face her. "What makes you think I give a—"

"Save it," she said. "You may not give a damn about what the rest of the world thinks, but you care about Cid. You made it your business to put down everyone here whenever you could, but not Cid."

Quistis crossed her arms. "He's like a father to you, isn't he?"

"Shut your mouth, Trepe."

"Get out."

He looked back and forth from instructor to cadet, then chuckled and picked up his gloves.

"You're lucky," Seifer said to Matthew, pointing at him. "Real lucky." The blond man walked slowly toward Quistis, stepped around her, but stopped and stood next to her.

"_Another_ student?" He glanced at the cadet over his shoulder. "Couldn't get Squall, so you go after Rinoa's sorry-ass brother?"

Seifer shook his head. "You're pretty screwed up, Trepe, you know that? An instructor that goes after her stu—"

"You don't belong here, Seifer," she said. "_Get out_."

He walked away slowly, and Quistis turned to watch him until he was out of sight. When Seifer was gone, she looked back to Matthew.

"You all right?" she asked, walking toward him. _Click, click, click_ went her heels. He was grateful for that click. Seifer didn't have much to lose, Matthew figured. _He could have killed him if he wanted to_. He glared down at his useless hands, then looked up to Quistis.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just hit me in the head a couple times."

She nodded. "Good. Come with me."

"All right." They moved down the hallway in the opposite direction of where Seifer had gone.

"Thank you," he said after a moment. He shook his head. "I couldn't even touch him."

Quistis stopped in front of a door. "Give yourself some credit," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Matthew found himself trembling a little at her touch. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

"You're not in any shape to fight." She punched a six-digit code into a number pad on the wall and the door slid open. The instructor stepped inside, but Matthew hesitated at the threshold.

She looked over her shoulder at him and laughed. "Come in," she said. "I didn't bring you all the way here so you could walk me to my door."

"All right." He followed her in and the door slid shut behind him. The lights were already on, and Matthew immediately realized one perk of being an instructor. Quistis's quarters weren't the cramped dorms that students often shared, but an apartment, and one that lacked even the subtle military aesthetic of the dormitories. The walls were white and the floor was light-colored hardwood. It was clean, with small, full bookshelves and a modest television and a couch in the living room. It smelled clean, too, small potted plants scattered around, green and fresh.

"Have a seat," she said. "I figured you've seen enough of the infirmary. I'll get you some aspirin."

Matthew nodded and sat down. He looked at her bookshelves while she went into the bathroom. One was stocked with large, rigid volumes – textbooks, and the other filled with small, thick paperback novels. A chest-high bar separated the kitchen from the living room, and he glanced over it as she moved into view. When she came and sat down next to him on the couch, she placed a couple of pills in his hand and he tossed them into his mouth and swallowed them before she could hand him the glass of water she held.

She shuddered and he blushed a little.

"How can you _do _that?" Quistis asked, a girlish grimace on her face. "Even with water, I have to take them one at a time."

He looked down at his hands and half-smiled, almost fondly. "My father wouldn't let me take anything with water after I was five. 'You can never count on having water on the battlefield,' he said."

She laughed and shook her head and handed him the glass of water. He took a sip. "Thanks," Matthew said.

"What about Rinoa?" Quistis asked. "Does she share your _talent_?"

"No." He looked at her apologetically. "My father never thought women belonged on the battlefield. That's why the G-Army is almost entirely male."

Matthew looked away from her and she watched him, her elbow on the back of the small couch and her head propped up on her hand.

"I mean, I don't agree with it or anything…"

"I heard what Rinoa said in the lobby."

"You _what_?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I came out of the library and I was going to go up to the second floor… And I saw _Seifer_, and Rinoa crying, Squall just standing there, and you… You looked so angry."

He covered his face with his hands and leaned his head back.

"The two of you haven't…talked about it, have you?"

"What? Of course not," he said, dropping his hands into his lap and shaking his head. "You don't _talk_ about that kind of stuff."

Quistis exhaled a sharp breath in disbelief. She crossed her arms and looked over at him. "What do you do, then?" she asked. "Keep it bottled up inside? Really?"

"How's that working out for you?" she persisted, in that demanding tone that he found himself on the receiving end of for the first time since he'd been to Balamb.

His head throbbed in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. It was the kind of headache that ran down your neck and made you sick to your stomach. He pressed his bandaged palms to his forehead and dropped his head between his knees.

"Why do you _care_?" he asked, his voice muffled by the position in which he spoke. "Aren't you just supposed to make sure I become a SeeD?"

She didn't reply.

When he brought his head up, he found his eyes were watering from the pounding in his skull, and he wiped them dry with the backs of his hands.

"Thank you for getting rid of Seifer," he said. "I'm pretty sure he was going to kill me. And thank you for the aspirin. If there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know."

He stood up. "I'm going to go now. Good night, instructor," he said.

"Wait," she said, and he froze at the door. "There is something you can do."

Quistis was standing with her hands clasped in front of her waist when he turned around. "Go out with me tomorrow night," she said.

"What?"

"My friends and I – everyone who was at dinner Monday night, I mean – are going out tomorrow night... And I'm the only one without a date."

"Instructor," he said, "I'm not very good at... I don't know..." He shrugged. "I'm not a whole lot of fun."

"That's okay," she said. Her voice had returned to the tone that made him glad someone cared. He marveled at the extremes of this woman and wondered if all women had such a range of emotions, all equally effective at tearing your guts out (although her whip did a decent job of that in the literal sense, he thought). This was the first time he could remember talking extensively with _anyone_ about something other than school or the military, never mind a woman. When Quistis had kissed him on the cheek this morning, it had been the first time anyone had kissed him since his mother died.

"Let me give you some advice," his father had said once, when Matthew was young enough to take it to heart, "about women. _Don't bother_. Wait until you've risen up to a respectable rank - to major, or captain at the very least, and I'll find you a marriage that will be mutually beneficial. But love? Don't bother. It's a distraction, the biggest distraction there is, from one's work." The general had turned to the window, gloved hands joined behind his back. "And when your work is done on the battlefield, distractions can _kill_."

"Just go with me," Quistis said. "And we'll figure it out."

"Okay," Matthew said. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, firm and comforting, as if those two syllables that he'd spoken so often had become a promise. He wondered, again, what the hell was wrong with him.

She smiled. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Good night," he said. His headache had receded entirely in the last few minutes, but almost as soon as the door closed behind him and he stepped into the hall, it came back. It came back like all the knowledge in the world being packed into his head at once.

* * *

Squall reached the door to his dorm and yawned as he punched in the code that sent the door sliding open. The lights were all on, and his roommate was not alone. Irvine, Selphie, Zell, and Zell's girlfriend (What was her name? Pam? Patricia? _Petra_, that was it) were all gathered around a board game on the floor. Squall folded his arms as he stood in the doorway.

"Wanna play?" Zell asked, patting the floor beside him.

"Could someone tell me what time it is?" Squall asked, ignoring him.

Irvine shook his long sleeve down from his wrist and looked down at his watch. "Little after midnight," he said.

"Which means you're all in violation of protocol," Squall said as he walked past them. There was a collective groan from the floor.

"Just try and keep it down," he said, disappearing behind the partition that separated his side of the dorm from Irvine's. "It's been a hell of a day."

His friends looked at each other for a moment, and then erupted into cheering and applause that directly contradicted Squall's request.


	6. Beautiful Change

Chapter 6: Beautiful Change

"Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

"Shoot," Xu said, setting her coffee down on the railing of the quad. It was a golden, quiet morning outside. The sun was just beginning to rise and most of the students weren't awake yet. A warm ocean breeze blew through their hair as the Garden moved slowly from Fisherman's Horizon to Galbadia, where Headmaster Cid would meet with government officials and his students would meet with Deling City on a Friday night.

"Would you ever go out with a guy who's shorter than you?" Quistis asked.

"No," Xu said without hesitation. She took a sip from her styrofoam cup, and then looked to Quistis with her eyes widened. The dark-haired woman grinned.

"I think _you _would, though," she said. "Who is it?"

"You think _I_ would? What's that supposed to mean? And besides, I told you it was a hypothetical question. I read a magazine article, and--"

"Because you _still_ don't have a boyfriend, that's why."

Quistis set her cup down now, and crossed her arms as she looked at Xu.

"I've been in _several _relationships," she said.

"That's not what I said." Xu grinned again.

"Same thing,"

"Not really. Quistis, most people would say you have to go out with a guy more than _twice_ before he's your boyfriend."

The instructor rolled her eyes, and sipped at her coffee.

"So are you going to tell me who it is?" Xu asked. "Or am I going to have to start naming off every guy I know who's shorter than you are?"

"Is it _Zell_?" she whispered loudly, mockingly conspiratorial. "Because he's taken."

Quistis sighed and buried her face in her hands, leaning forward over the railing on her elbows. After a moment, she turned her head so she could glance at Xu.

"If I hear one word about this from _anyone_…"

Xu waved her hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. My lips are sealed. Now fess up or I'll leak something about you pining for _Raijin_ to your little fan club."

Quistis hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "What do you think of Matthew Caraway?"

The dark-haired woman spit a mouthful of coffee into the ocean.

Xu wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then stared at Quistis for a moment.

"You're serious," she said quietly, her eyes widening again. "You're serious."

Quistis nodded. Xu stepped away from the railing, rubbing her forehead.

"Why?" she asked.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"I mean there are a million reasons why this is a bad idea," she said, looking up at Quistis now. "For one, _another _student?"

"Oh, _please_. I'm only a year older than he is."

"That's not the point!" Xu said. "It's unprofessional, Quistis, and you know it. And besides, why _him_? I could understand you liking Squall – strong, handsome, smart…"

Quistis shook her head, her face red. "Don't talk about that," she said quietly. "That has nothing to do with…"

"Of course it does! Do you want to lose your job after you just got it back? And look, I feel bad about what happened to the Caraway kid, and I don't really know him, but… From what I've seen, I'm not even sure if there's much to _know_, Quistis."

"Xu, how can you say that?"

"I'm sorry, Quistis, but at least Squall was _angry_. I don't see _anything_ in that kid's eyes."

"You don't understand."

"That's right. I _don't. _Tell me why this guy's worth risking your job over."

The blonde woman was leaning over the railing again, her eyes on the horizon.

"I saw him smile, Xu," she said softly. "And no, he's not as good-looking as Squall, but it was really beautiful."

Xu came to Quistis's side, following her eyes to where rising sun was casting an orange glow over the ocean.

"There _is _something there, Xu. His father… You know that Rinoa ran away from home to join the Timber Owls, right?"

The dark-haired woman nodded.

"Well, from what I've heard from Matthew… I don't blame her. He may be a fine general, but he's not much of a father. Matthew is as much of an orphan as the rest of us."

Xu finished her coffee and looked out over the ocean for a moment. "You've got strange taste in men, Quistis. You could have just about any guy in this place, and you keep going after the ones with problems."

Quistis looked down. "Everybody has problems, Xu."

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to trivialize… I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"Me, neither. But I have to try. I know that it's… Impractical," she said. "And I appreciate you looking out for me. But I just have a feeling, Xu, and I don't understand it, but it's so _strong_. And I don't want to wait too long to act on it. I don't want to make that mistake again."

Xu put her hand on Quistis's and sighed. "Well, at least you won't have to worry about him _trying _anything," she said.

"Because he's polite to a fault?"

"No, because you're bigger than he is. You could just kick his ass."

"Shut up, Xu."

* * *

Squall felt himself relax as he sat in Rinoa's apartment. He had come down from the office he currently shared with Cid and Xu for his lunch break, and Rinoa was in the kitchen preparing a meal of some sort. He sat a table by an open window, ocean air drifting into the room, blue sky and sunlight beaming in on white walls. She hadn't fully moved into the place yet, and the décor was sparse, boxes still scattered around the room. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, which already felt tired from staring into both the computer screen and the contents of manila file folders occasionally dropped on his desk. 

When she came back into the room, he saw that she had prepared sandwiches and salad. A simple meal, but immediately evident to him was how much care had been put into it: the bread was fresh from a bakery (judging by its taste, Squall was certain it was from Panera's in Balamb), and the meat hand-cut. The vegetables in the salad and in the sandwiches were crisp, and he had heard her dicing at them when he knocked at her door.

"How is it?" she asked eagerly, a few minutes after they had begun to eat. "I mean, it's nothing exciting - I'm not much of a cook…"

"It's great," he said, looking up into her eyes for a moment. "It's really good."

The sincerity in his brief but sturdy eye contact, in the tone of his voice, in his almost-smile was not lost on Rinoa, and she smiled. With Squall, it was always subtle gestures and fine details – the more she was around him, the more she noticed them, not only in his behavior, but in every aspect of her life.

He had opened her eyes to the beauty of the little things in life, and she would show him that it was all right to express yourself in broader measures once in a while. It was one of the many ways they were changing each other already, and Rinoa only had to remind herself of this whenever she had doubts about turning her life upside down to be with him. She only had to think of the slow and beautiful changes, and of how many more were still to come.

"So I have a couple bits of news," she said.

"Good or bad?" he asked.

"Well, _I _think both bits are good…"

Squall laughed a little. He felt so damn relaxed. He didn't want to go back to that desk.

"Go ahead, then," he said.

"All right," she said, leaning towards him a little now. "You know I said I was gonna ask Matt if he wanted to come out with us tonight?"

"Yeah."

"He actually said yes! Can you believe it?"

His eyebrows raised a little. "It is a surprise," he said. Well, he thought, that isn't going to make things any easier tonight, having to stare at a guy I interrogated for protecting his sister. Great.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Rinoa said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I think he… Understands why you did what you did. I don't think he's going to hold it against you or anything. He's been around the military his whole life. He knows how it has to work."

Squall nodded slowly, though he didn't feel any better about what he'd done. He would come to terms with it eventually – he'd _have_ to if he was going to be a good commander, because that was just the tip of the impossible-decision-iceberg – but at the moment he didn't think anything could alleviate his guilt.

"So what's the other bit?" he asked.

Rinoa took a deep breath. "Laguna's coming for a visit to Garden on Sunday."

She saw his hand ball up into a fist where it rested on the table, and then relax again.

"All right," he said quietly. "Surprised Cid didn't tell me about it, but…"

"Yeah, he told me this morning," she said with an apologetic half-smile. The headmaster had never liked to be the bearer of bad news. "So what do you think?"

Squall shrugged. "I don't know, I guess Cid will brief me on what's going to be discussed during the meeting, and… Not much to think about, really. He may not even want me there, like the meeting with your fa—General Caraway today."

"That's what I meant, Squall. Laguna is your father. You should probably, you know… Talk to him, don't you think?"

"Who said he was my father?" he asked, looking away from her out the window.

"Kiros."

"He just said I look like him."

Rinoa shook her head. "No, he told me that Laguna _is_ your father."

Squall nodded. "I haven't thought about it much," he said, looking back at her. "And I don't really know what to think. You're right, I should talk to him."

"But not yet," he said, shaking his head. He took a sip from a glass of water and then looked over at a digital clock on top of some boxes. Squall gestured to it with his hand.

"Is that accurate?"

"Yes."

"I have to get back up to the office, then," he said. They cleared the table together and brought the dishes into the kitchen, where they set them in the sink. Before Squall could leave, Rinoa pressed him against the counter, her arms around his neck as they kissed a few times.

"Don't work too hard," she said, their faces close together.

"I'll try not to," he said. "But it's real _urgent_ stuff we're doing up there."

* * *

Matthew frowned at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't like the way he looked very much. He never had, but it hadn't mattered until now; he had never _wanted_ to look good for anyone. He thought he was a decent-looking guy - blessed with a clear complexion and in good shape (though entirely too skinny, Matthew thought), thanks to Galbadia's rigorous calisthenics regimen. He wasn't too pale – his skin was naturally lightly tanned, like his sister's, though he wasn't especially dark. His hair was black and neat, but too short to have any kind of style to it; it was a very _military_ kind of haircut. 

That's the point, though, he told himself as he unwrapped the bandages around his hands. He ran his finger along the deep cut, which hadn't even _began_ to heal over yet. Matthew didn't really want to go out with his hands wrapped up. They drew attention, especially from people who knew _why_ they were bandaged. No one had glared at him today, though there were still constant whispers. It was a student who found him out there on the quad, and news had traveled fast throughout Garden. He didn't expect that anyone felt sorry for him, but perhaps they thought he had paid the price for being a Galbadian. One student had even asked him for answers to a homework assignment (which Matthew gave to her, though he knew she wouldn't benefit from it).

So he wrapped his hands back up with fresh white gauze. He glanced up at himself in the mirror again, and saw in his reflection the downside to the sort of life he had chosen. Matthew had always sought to make himself inconspicuous – keep your head down, stay focused, and do what you're told. That had worked just fine in the classroom and in the training center. He imagined it would work just fine on the battlefield, too. But he had never expected to be asked out on a date (which he supposed it was, even if there were six others with them), and always figured he could simply decline the offer if the situation ever presented itself. _Don't even bother_, his father had said, and Matthew thought it seemed to be good advice.

But now he was obligated to bother. He had to repay a debt, right? The cadet, out of uniform for the first time since arriving in Balamb, stepped back to see how the shirt he wore looked. He frowned, feeling naked in the clothes that he hoped were neither too casual nor too formal. He felt, in fact, as naked as he had when he stepped into Balamb Garden for the first time wearing his Galabadian cadet's uniform.

What worried him was that what he was doing didn't feel like repaying a debt. You don't fuss over your appearance and question your purpose in life just to repay a debt. He _wanted _this. As bad as he knew he was in social situations, he wanted to make Quistis happy. It wasn't trying to meet the demands of an instructor - this was catching glimpses of sadness in someone's eyes and wanting to take it away.

Matthew had never taken classes or read books on making someone happy, and knew from his failure in pleasing his father that he had no talent for it. Rinoa had been blessed with that ability, but he had never been close enough to his sister to observe how she did it. He felt like if he could trade in all his military training for that simple gift, to be able to make Quistis feel good, that right now he'd do it. Matthew shook his head and stared at his reflection. It was completely ridiculous.

You're not cut out for this, he told himself. It's not your place to worry about other people, because it's nothing _you_ can change, anyway. Go out tonight, repay your _debt_, and put her out of your mind. She's your SeeD instructor and her personal life is none of your business. And on top of all that, he'd known Quistis less than a week. Matthew decided that he simply missed Galbadia, had been through quite a bit since he'd arrived in Balamb, and wasn't thinking straight. It was the painkillers, or maybe he'd suffered some head trauma from his encounter with Seifer.

He smoothed out the front of his shirt. He leaned in close to the mirror to examine the cut at the side of his mouth. But it couldn't hurt to at least _try_ tonight, he thought. He had to be there, anyway, right? For once in your life, make someone else feel good. Don't just sit there and wait for someone to ask you something. Don't stare at the table or the floor. Don't frown all the time. Don't talk so damned quietly. Don't _stutter_ when you talk. Actually _finish_ eating what you order for dinner. He would never be the life of anyone's party, but he could at least make himself agreeable company.

Matthew brushed his teeth. Since when did any of that stuff matter?

His father was right, he was sure of it now: women _were _a distraction.

* * *

To most people, the restaurant in Deling City was nice – it was well-lit, the food was above average, and the service was friendly. But for teenagers, it was perfect: in addition to what _everyone _liked about it, there were no reservations required, certainly no dress code, and the food wasn't very expensive. Despite unfamiliarity of the place, the group as a whole was more comfortable than it had been on Monday night in Balamb, and everyone fell easily into place. 

The more socially-inclined talked loudest and longest: Irvine alternately boastful and coy, Selphie finding humor in almost everything, Zell good-natured and just short of obnoxious, Petra more quiet than the others (still an acquaintance to everyone except Zell), but a visibly enthusiastic listener, and Rinoa full of stories to tell of Deling City, though she tactfully left her father out of them.

Squall was in a much better mood than he was Monday, and in fact wore the trace of a smile all night. He mostly spoke when he was asked to, but everyone would have agreed that he was the funniest out of all of them that night, for the simple fact that he never tried to be funny. He was dry and self-deprecating without being self-pitying or standoffish.

Matthew and Quistis found themselves again at an end of the table, and seemed to occupy a world of their own. Their conversation was nearly that of a teacher and a dedicated pupil, discussing history, politics, and battle tactics – with Quistis talking modestly, though at great length, and Matthew listening alertly, asking questions that spurred her on, and filling in the occasional gaps of her discourse where her memory lapsed. But it was more than that, Irvine noticed, because Quistis kept touching his arm and he kept smiling at her. The sharpshooter didn't like to keep much under his hat besides his hair, and wasted no time in pointing out his observation to Rinoa.

After dinner, the group walked through the streets of Deling City in a loose double-file line, with no real destination in mind. They were all glad to be out of Garden for a while and no one was in a hurry to go back yet. When Squall was engaged in conversation with Zell, and Selphie with Petra, Irvine stopped walking to allow Rinoa to catch up with him, and then walked at her side.

"So, Rinoa," he said. "Any idea why your brother decided to join us tonight?"

She shook her head. "Not really, but I am glad he came. Seemed like he was actually having fun. Why?"

"He sure did talk with Quistis a lot, didn't he?"

"Yeah," she said. "Looks like they get along really well."

"_Real_ well," he agreed, grinning.

"What's that look for?"

"I don't mean to judge, because your brother seems like a good guy," he said, gesturing over his shoulder with his head, where Quistis and Matthew brought up the rear of the group, "but does he _usually_ smile that much? Because Quistis isn't _usually_ what you'd call a 'touchy-feely' kind of person."

"What are you getting at, Irvine? I—"

Realization came to her like a slap in the face. She turned around to glance at the two of them. They weren't speaking now, but they walked close together, their shoulders occasionally brushing each other's. Matthew's hands were in his pockets, Quistis's clasped loosely in front of her waist. Their eyes were on the starless, red-tinged sky, stealing sidelong glances at each other even as Rinoa watched them. She jerked her head back around to face forward.

"Oh, crap," she said quietly.

Irvine grinned again. He spread his arms wide and took in a deep breath of the warm night air.

"Smell that?" he asked. "Spring may be long gone, but I'd recognize that scent anywhere."

Rinoa didn't respond, but looked up at the cowboy as he pushed up his hat a little.

"That's _love_ in the air." Irvine put his arm around her shoulders, which elicited a frown from Squall, who was glancing at them through narrowed eyes. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

It should be, Rinoa thought. But she wasn't sure.

* * *

Notes:

Chapter title taken from a song of the same name by the Innocence Mission.

Thanks for reading!


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